It’s not the outcome I wanted.

I wanted to walk in those hospital doors with a misbehaving Herald (my heart is such a big part of my life, he deserved a name, right?! LOL), and walk out with a well-behaved Herald.

Well that didn’t happen.

I left with a tiny bit of hope implanted in my chest (literally). I was given a permanent heart monitor (linq recorder), which I will wear up to three years- until they find a cause for my heart’s rapid beating.

Although it’s not the hope I was hoping for, it’s something.

Usually after every disappointing appointment, I would leave questioning God. I would get mad at Him for not providing answers.

I woke up from my first procedure, and when I asked for the results (hoping to be told they were able to fix it), I was told the opposite, and I tried to hold in the tears, but I couldn’t.

I cried as they hooked and unhooked wires.

Each nurse that walked in asked if I was okay, and each time I lied.

Each time I told them I was fine, when I knew deep down I was disappointed again.

Finally, another nurse asked me and I told her the truth- no.

No I am not fine. She asked me why. She thought I was crying from the physical pain, yet the physical pain doesn’t compare to the depressing pain I feel knowing that I’d leave and have to continue living this way.

I told her. I told her how I want so desperately to feel normal again. I told her how I want to make it through my last year of college, and how I want to just be me again.

She told me she understood it was frustrating, and she walked away. Her statement so plain. Her statement was short. I didn’t expect a long response, but the one she gave me couldn’t be further from the truth.

I know she didn’t understand. She didn’t know what to say to me. No one does. I understand that others don’t truly understand what I go through. Just like I don’t understand what other people are going through.

The saying- Don’t judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes, is such a true statement.

I write these posts as a way for me to express myself, but also to spread awareness for the undiagnosed, and invisible illness community. To shine a little light for us that are dealing with things that no one else knows. I cannot explain the amount of people I have had message me since my procedures, saying they didn’t know about this. I try my hardest to not share it too much, but it’s getting bad. So bad I’m done hiding it. I am slowly losing myself in it. 

I am so ready to be back to normal. I am so ready to say adios to bad Herald, and hello to good Herald.

I left the hospital with a little hope. Although it’s not the outcome I wanted, or the outcome I prayed so long for, it’s a little something.

Sometimes the smallest hope is all you need to keep moving forward.